Chapter 1: The Flight to Forever
“It wasn’t supposed to feel like this,” I thought as I stared out the small window of the spacecraft. The stars outside blurred as we hurtled through the blackness of space, a silent stream of light that felt both infinite and suffocating.
I leaned back in my seat, the soft hum of the engine thrumming through the ship’s metallic frame, a constant background to my racing thoughts. A one-way trip to Mars Colony should have been exciting. It was the adventure of a lifetime, a chance to start over. But instead, all I felt was the familiar weight of guilt pressing down on my chest. The mistakes I thought I could outrun seemed to be speeding along with me, their presence like shadows whispering in the corners of my mind.
I closed my eyes, trying to block out the noise in my head. My best friend, Mira, had urged me to take this trip, to leave behind the regrets and the endless questions about my past. “You need a fresh start,” she’d said, smiling in that warm, reassuring way of hers. “What better place than a new planet?”
But as the ship flew further from Earth, I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe running away wasn’t the answer.
The bracelet on my wrist—an impulse buy from a tiny market near the spaceport—felt cold and heavy. The vendor had insisted it was a relic from another era, something ancient and valuable. At the time, I hadn’t cared. I just liked the way it looked, a delicate chain of silver with a strange, swirling symbol etched into the charm.
Now, though, it felt different. Almost like it was… alive. I shivered and rubbed my thumb over the symbol, trying to distract myself from the eerie sensation creeping up my arm.
It wasn’t just the bracelet. Something else was wrong.
The soft hum of the engine had shifted—just slightly—but enough to send a jolt of unease through me. I opened my eyes, glancing around the cabin. Most of the other passengers were asleep or lost in their own worlds. There were no alarms, no flashing lights. But still, the feeling persisted.
I sat up straighter, my heart beating a little faster. What’s going on?
A sudden jolt shook the ship, sending a wave of gasps through the cabin. The overhead lights flickered, and the hum of the engine turned into a low, unsettling growl.
The flight attendants rushed to their stations, their calm expressions quickly replaced with concern as they communicated silently with each other. I gripped the armrests, my pulse racing.
This can’t be happening. Not now.
Then, everything stopped. The lights, the hum, the movement of the ship—it all just… ceased. We were suspended in an eerie, silent stillness.
For a moment, no one moved. The weight of the silence pressed in on me, thick and heavy, until someone near the back let out a nervous laugh. It was the wrong sound at the wrong time, and it shattered whatever fragile calm I had left.
Suddenly, the bracelet on my wrist pulsed.
I looked down, my breath catching in my throat. The symbol on the charm was glowing—a soft, bluish light that seemed to pulse in time with my heartbeat. What the…
I pulled at the bracelet, trying to take it off, but it wouldn’t budge. Panic started to rise in my chest as the light grew brighter, the pulse stronger, until it felt like the bracelet was a part of me, connected in a way I couldn’t understand.
Then, without warning, the world around me seemed to shift.
The walls of the ship dissolved, replaced by swirling colors, galaxies spinning around me in a dizzying whirl of light and darkness. I gasped, my hands reaching out to steady myself, but there was nothing to hold onto. I was floating, weightless, in the vast expanse of space.
Am I dreaming?
The stars spun faster, the light intensifying until it was blinding. I closed my eyes, waiting for the sensation to stop, for something—anything—to make sense again.
When I finally opened them, I was no longer on the ship.
***
I was standing in the middle of an open field, the ground beneath my feet solid and warm. The air smelled fresh, like rain and earth, and a soft breeze whispered through the tall grass, brushing against my skin.
Above me, the sky wasn’t the deep, endless black of space but a strange, violet hue. And instead of one sun, there were two, their light casting long, golden shadows across the landscape.
Where am I?
I turned slowly, taking in the unfamiliar world around me. In the distance, I could see a city—tall, elegant structures that seemed to rise organically from the ground, their surfaces gleaming in the twin suns’ light. It was both ancient and futuristic, a blend of past and future that made no sense.
My head spun as I tried to make sense of what had just happened. One minute, I was on a flight to Mars, and the next, I was… here. Wherever “here” was.
The bracelet pulsed again, its light fading to a soft glow. I stared at it, my mind racing. Was this thing responsible for all of this?
Before I could think too much about it, I heard a voice behind me.
“Lost, are you?”
I spun around, my heart leaping into my throat. A man stood a few feet away, his silhouette dark against the glowing horizon. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a calm, unhurried stance. His clothes were strange, a mix of the ancient and the futuristic, just like the city in the distance.
He stepped closer, and as his face came into focus, I felt a strange sense of familiarity. His features were sharp, with high cheekbones and a strong jawline, his dark hair falling slightly over his eyes. But it was his eyes that held my attention—deep, stormy, and filled with a quiet intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.
“I…” I stammered, struggling to find my voice. “Where am I?”
The corner of his mouth lifted in a small, enigmatic smile. “That depends. Where do you think you are?”
I blinked, confusion swirling in my chest. “I—I was on a ship. And now… I don’t know.”
He studied me for a moment, his eyes flicking to the bracelet on my wrist. “That explains it,” he murmured, almost to himself.
“What explains it?” I demanded, stepping toward him. “What’s going on? Where am I?”
The man didn’t answer right away. Instead, he moved closer, his gaze fixed on the bracelet. He reached out, his fingers lightly brushing the charm, and I felt a sudden warmth flood through me, like an electric current sparking between us.
“You’ve crossed the boundary,” he said softly, his voice low and soothing. “Between time and space.”
I stared at him, my heart pounding. “What are you talking about?”
His eyes met mine, and for a moment, I felt like I was falling—falling into those dark, mysterious eyes that seemed to hold a thousand secrets. The air between us was charged, and despite the confusion and fear swirling in my chest, I couldn’t deny the strange pull I felt toward him.
But before I could say anything else, the ground beneath my feet trembled.
The man’s expression darkened, and he took a step back. “You need to leave. Now.”
“What? Why?” I asked, panic rising again.
“There’s no time to explain,” he said, his voice urgent now. “Go, before it’s too late.”
And then, just as suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone.
The bracelet on my wrist pulsed again, and the world around me started to blur. The sky, the ground, the city in the distance—all of it began to spin, faster and faster, until I felt like I was being pulled apart.
I screamed, clutching the bracelet, and then—
Darkness.
***
I woke up, gasping for air, my body trembling. I was back on the ship—or at least, I thought I was. But everything was wrong. The stars outside the window were different, the constellations unfamiliar. And the bracelet on my wrist… was glowing again.